


Where Is My Shiny Gun?

by Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consent is Sexy, Dean is adorable, F/M, Knifeplay, Masturbation, Other, Sam is kinky, Spanking, Voyeurism, Wincest adjacent, breast slapping, brief knife play with no blood, dean likes to give donna massages, dean's a pleaser, donna's hot as fuck, sam directing while, so is donna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 05:51:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19267111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield
Summary: Sam finds himself in a quandary when he realizes he has feelings for Donna by way of the obvious mutual attraction between her and Dean.





	Where Is My Shiny Gun?

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is from the song "Where Have All The Cowboy Gone?" by Paula Cole. It's about unmet expectations, oppressive patriarchy, and not being satisfied. I thought "what if that were Sam?" Sam is most definitely dissatisfied with his life. He still thinks that one day he'll have that white-picket fence, apple pie life - and that that is what he deserves. But what if it's something else that could make him happy - no matter how weird it is?

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Sam can hear her satisfied groan from halfway down the hall. “ _Yes_ , Dean –  _right there_.” His eyebrows shoot to the ceiling and he stops dead in his tracks to listen. She’s breathing heavy and gasping and her voice is tight like she’s right on the edge of something epic.

He wonders, though, if he should turn tail, go back to his room. He can drink water from his tap instead of the cold, filtered water from the refrigerator. His curiosity gets the better of him and he proceeds down the hall.

Sam hears Dean chuckle. “That it?” His voice is equally breathless and he’s grunting from, what Sam assumes is, exertion. Now he  _knows_  he should turn back, but something pushes him forward regardless.

“ _Yeah_ ,” she breathes, and Sam peeks around the corner into the kitchen. “ _Ohhhhhh_ ,” she moans and the way her voice vibrates the air shoots straight to Sam’s groin.

Then he takes in the scene before him.

Donna’s strong, denim-clad thighs are spread to accommodate the wooden chair she’s straddling backward as she drapes herself over Dean’s thick, wool work shirt where it’s folded like a pad over the straight ladder-back. Her blonde and pink waves of hair shroud her face and neck, but there’s no muffling of the sounds she’s making.

“Fffff…” The fact that she’s obviously feeling great pleasure and still can’t say fuck makes Sam smile to himself.

Dean’s behind her, arched over her, stance wide and commanding, twisting and flexing his wrists, thumbs digging into the supple meat and muscle of her bared shoulders from her tank top.

“C’mon, D-Train, give it up,” Dean grins, and Sam watches Donna melt under his ministrations.

Donna’s a very physical person. She’s a deft and determined hunter and a warm and affectionate friend. The first time they met her, she seemed meek – left insecure by the hurt her ex-husband had inflicted. But that insecurity was a temporary side-effect of the divorce, thankfully, because deep down and post-hurt, Donna is a strong, vivacious, beautiful woman.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean says, straightening to his full height and dragging a broad hand across Donna’s shoulders. Sam can see him let up from the pressure he’d been grinding into Donna’s muscles.

“Donna’s got a kink.” Dean smirks and Donna snorts with laughter as she flips her hair out of her face and over her shoulders. “In her back.” Dean’s smile is so self-satisfied with his joke, Sam rolls his eyes.

“Dean Winchester,” Donna says with that teasing scold of a tone she uses with Dean more often than not as she scoots back off the chair and stands.

Dean seems reluctant to move out of her space, but he does it – barely – as he looks down at her with mischief. “You love it,” he says, and Donna shoves at him playfully.

 _When did they get so cozy?_ Sam muses to himself.  _And why is it turning me on?_

He clears his throat, trying to dislodge the awkward. “Sorry for interrupting.”

Dean and Donna look at him in question, slightly taken aback, confused by his comment – or maybe his mere presence.

“I just came in for water,” Sam mumbles and shuffles to the fridge to find the Brita pitcher and get out of the kitchen as soon as possible.

“Didn’t interrupt,” Donna chirps, rolling her shoulders and reaching for the hoodie that’s pooled on the floor. “Your brother here was just givin’ me a taste of his magic fingers is all.” She snickers and blushes pink.

Dean scoffs. “That’s not  _nearly_  as good as my kink joke,” he points out, hovering around her as she shrugs into her hoodie, flipping all that hair again.

Donna isn’t wearing shoes, just a thick pair of wool socks, and Dean’s wearing boots, as usual, so the height difference between them is exaggerated. Sam didn’t realize he had a size kink before this very moment.

“Pfft, was barely tryin’,” Donna replies, laughing as she waltzes from the kitchen, a relaxed sway in her hips. “Thanks for the pick me up, cowboy.” She winks, and then she’s gone.

Sam changes his mind from water to beer. He sets his empty water glass aside and grabs two beers from the fridge then turns and hands one to Dean.

“You and Donna, huh?” Sam asks, twisting the cap from his beer once Dean accepts the offering.

“What?” Dean says, confusion clear in his tone.

“You and Donna,” Sam reiterates, taking a sip from his beer. “Lookin’ pretty cozy.” Sam smirks at his brother’s shift in stance.

Dean shakes his head and scrubs at the back of his neck, huffs a wry laugh. “Nah,” he says. “I was literally just helping her work out a knot in her shoulders.” Dean snags Sam’s teasing gaze with a bit of heat in his own. “I’m not about takin’ advantage of our women.”

Sam laughs lightly. “But you’ll call them ‘our women’ like-”

“Like they’re part of our family, Sammy,” Dean asserts, squaring his shoulders. Sam isn’t sure why Dean’s so resistant to the idea that he and Donna could be a thing.

Sam shrugs. “Why not? You’re both consenting adults.” He takes another pull of his beer, closely studying Dean. “What if she wasn’t ‘part of our family’?” Sam asks. “Don’t pretend like you aren’t attracted to her, Dean. It shows every time you two have even the most remote interaction, always has.”

Dean’s brow furrows as he ponders Sam’s assertion. “Huh,” Dean replies, poking his tongue at the side of his mouth before taking a long, thoughtful sip from his beer. “I mean, she is fun.” He purses his lips and squints into the ether, seemingly weighing the idea further. “And sexy as fuck.” His voice roughens slightly, and his eyes start to glaze.

“Mhmm,” Sam says with a grin and a tilt of his beer bottle. “You were thinkin’ it.”

“Hmm,” Dean hums and nods before commandeering the chair Donna previously occupied. “Sounds like you’re thinkin’ about it, too,” he says, pointedly.

Sam drops his gaze to his beer bottle and remains quiet for a moment. “Maybe I was,” he replies.

Dean scoffs. “So… why’re you tryin’ to push me in that direction?”

Sam shrugs again, his thoughts unsettled. “Just a thought, man, forget I said anything.”

Dean stares, confused for a few beats before shaking his head and letting the subject drop. “You said you found a case earlier,” Dean says. “What’re we lookin’ at?”

Sam moves beyond the moment as well, hoping to sort it all out later, as he utilizes his bandwidth to tell Dean about their next case.

~~~~~~~

_One Week Later…_

Sam walks down the hall toward Dean’s room. He hears his brother’s and Donna’s vibrant voices mingling in banter and laughter. When he reaches the door, he remains quiet and watches. _  
_

Donna took a sabbatical of sorts to come to Lebanon and stay with them – to hunt, help them with Michael, keep an eye on Dean. When Sam suggested that she help with that last part, keeping an eye on Dean, he was surprisingly pleased with the outcome.

Donna’s stretched out on Dean’s small couch, her hair a mess on top of her head, random tendrils falling around her heart-shaped face as she studies an ancient research book. Her feet are dwarfed by Dean’s hands as he rubs them, mirroring her posture on the opposite end of the small couch. His right leg crooked at the knee against the back cushions, his own foot burrowed between Donna’s hip and the back of the couch. There’s a stiff, brightly colored card balanced on his left thigh that reads  _Reflexology_.

“I’m rubbing your…” Dean picks up the card and squints at the diagram of a foot, furrows his brow and tilts his head. “Spleen?”

Donna cracks up laughing, her grin blinding, the sound warming Sam’s chest and belly. Her head’s thrown back, her slender neck stretched and exposed before she rights herself to look back at Dean. “Why would anyone want their  _spleen_  massaged?”

“I don’t even know,” Dean laughs, carelessly tossing the card to the floor before settling back to rub her feet in earnest. “Pretty gross, if ya ask me.”

“So…” Sam tentatively enters the room from where he was watching to grab their attention. “I caught a case.”

The comfy looking pair glance up at Sam in interest. “Yeah?” Dean says, continuing to rub into the arch and ball of Donna’s foot. “What’s the deal?”

Sam explains the situation in Michigan – vamp nest, probably some of Michael’s hybrids. “So no easy ride,” he says. “We should call in back-up.”

“Michiganders,” Donna says, pulling her foot from Dean’s grasp as she snaps the book shut with a smirk that reads to Sam like something distinctly intimate between her and his brother.

Dean doesn’t readily let go of her foot and he returns the same smirk, as her naked, pink-polished toes slowly slide through his fingertips.

“Never an easy bunch – vamp or human,” she says as she pushes up from the small couch. “We can call Jodes.”

“Where y’goin’?” Dean pouts. “I was just gettin’ to the good part.”

“My  _spleen_?” Donna laughs out loud as she twists her hips in a full stretch.

“No,” Dean replies, dropping his foot to the floor to meet the other, sounding mildly offended. “I was movin’ to your kidneys and bladder, smart ass.”

Donna arches a brow and cocks her hip. “My ass is  _so much more_ than smart.”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot to the ceiling before his gaze drops to her hips just as she turns to Sam.

“So, we’re goin’ on a road trip!” She grins and bounces on her toes slapping her hands together.

Dean rises to stand next to her with a goofy grin on his face. Sam is honestly baffled by Dean’s continued insistence that there’s nothing between him and Donna and uncomfortably turned on by yet another indulgent massage session.

~~~~~~~

Jody brought Claire, and three other hunters joined them. They cleared out the nest in no time with fewer injuries than anticipated, zero casualties – apart from the vamps – and little more to go on in finding the archangel.

Sam reveled in watching Donna and Dean fight in tandem – all power and precision. It’s as if they save all other emotion and feeling for everything else in their lives. That thought lights Sam up inside.

After a big diner meal and debrief, the hunters go their separate ways. Donna spends a few extra minutes chatting and hugging Jody and Claire. Sam can see the warmth and love shared between the women and it warms him all the same.

“Hmm,” Dean grunts beside him. “Jody, huh?” He looks up at his brother, deadpan but pointed.

Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes at his brother’s teasing.

Dean drives the distance to the hotel for the night. There are only two beds. Sam declares since he’s the biggest, he gets his own bed, but he has ulterior motives. “One of you can shower first, though,” he says with a wry smile.

“Callin’ it,” Donna says without pausing as she tosses her bag to the bed she’ll be sharing with Dean and peels her jacket from her shoulders as she goes.

When the bathroom door clicks shut behind her, Dean rounds on Sam. “What d’you have planned, little brother?”

Sam tries to look innocent. “I dunno what you’re talking about,” he says, busying himself with his bag, toeing out of his boots, digging for his shower kit.

“Right,” Dean says, sitting to unlace his boots. “You aren’t tryin’ to push me and Donna together.”

Sam can feel Dean’s eyes on him as he moves to hang his jacket and remove his over shirt. When he turns back, Dean is watching him expectantly.

Sam sighs. “OK, maybe I…” He chews on the inside of his mouth. “Maybe I’m curious.”

Dean blinks slowly, knowingly. “About?” he encourages.

Sam clears his throat. “About the two of you,” he answers, squares his hips and shoulders, determined to get this out, once and for all. “Together.”

Dean purses his lips and nods, drags his gaze to the bathroom door, behind which the shower is running. Sam imagines Donna in there, under the spray, washing all that hair, soaping up her breasts and belly and thighs. He swallows thick as Dean looks back at him.

“So, you wanna watch,” he says, the beginnings of a smirk, playing at the edge of his mouth.

Sam draws a deep breath then nods. “Yeah,” he breathes. “I do.”

Dean nods and they wait for Donna to emerge from the bathroom.

~~~~~~~

One night about 10- or 12-years-ago before Dean went to Hell, the brothers went out and really cut loose; looser than usual. They hooked up with twin sisters and brought them back to their hotel room. That was the only time they’d ever done anything like that, before or since, contrary to what certain angels and demons may say behind their backs.

But Sam will never forget the way Dean navigated both women’s bodies. He was like Fred Astaire or Monet or Mozart. Sam’s confident in his skills but watching Dean that night – he witnessed a whole other level of expression and induction of pleasure; especially when the girls swapped brothers and he was able to compare and contrast their sounds and reactions.

Tonight, all clean and slightly buzzed, the trio sit around the little table, playing cards, in an attempt to turn their brains off from hunting. Sam watches Dean as he ramps up the flirting, the touching. Donna leans into him even more than usual.

“We should play strip poker,” Dean suggests like it’s an original, great idea.

Sam drops his head, shaking it.

 _If he fucks this up…_  he thinks to himself.

Donna laughs. “Dean, if ya wanna get me naked, all you gotta do is ask,” she says, batting her eyelashes in a side-eye and sipping her beer.

Dean’s grin splits his face wide. “That right, D-Train?” he asks, turning in his chair to face her, knees spread wide.

Donna sets her beer aside and licks her lips, looks down into his lap. “You serious right now?” she asks, leaning one elbow on the table, eyes narrowed and not even slightly timid.

“Yeah’m serious,” Dean answers. “You serious, Sammy?” Dean keeps his eyes on Donna’s as her brows arch over her narrowed eyes.

“I’m serious,” Sam answers, and Donna’s eyes widen as they turn to him. “I just wanna watch,” he says, hands held up in placation.

Donna’s eyes soften and she relaxes, her eyes dart to Dean’s and he raises a brow in question. “Pretty kinky,” she says, clearly pondering. Then, “okay, what the Hell. Let’s give it a go.”

Dean laughs. “You sure?” he asks, reaching for her as she swivels out of her chair and moves over him.

“Yeah,” she answers, smiling down at him, smoothing the sides of his mostly dry hair and settling over his lap. “But… what if I change my mind?” she asks, running her thumb along Dean’s bottom lip.

Dean thinks for a beat then cracks a grin, swiping his tongue out to lick her thumb. “Donut,” he says. “Just say donut.”

Donna throws her head back in laughter. Even Sam laughs at that.

Sam watches as they begin to kiss. At first, it’s tentative but, soon enough, they find their groove. They’re both smiling and Sam feels for a brief moment like he’s intruding. Then he finds Donna’s eyes and she winks.

Sam melts into his seat, rests his hand in his lap, feels himself growing hard in his jeans. They’ve only just begun, and Sam is out of breath. He tries to catch it as his mind spins around what’s next.

“Tell us what you want,” Dean says in between kisses. “And what you  _don’t_  want.”

“You askin’ me?” Donna replies in a low purr. “Or Sam?”

Dean smiles again, never parting too far with her lush lips. “Yeah, you,” he answers. “We need some boundaries to start. Then Sammy can…” Dean drags his lips over her jaw to the side of her face closest to Sam and looks him in the eye. “Give us some direction.”

Sam’s breath catches in his throat at Donna’s implication and the offer Dean’s making. Not only does he get to watch, but he can make requests. 

 _Jesus_.

“Hmm,” Donna starts. “I sure like kissin’ you,” she says, draping her arms over his shoulders and toying with the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Maybe I should kiss you all over then,” Dean says, placing wet, intentional kisses across her delicate collarbones. “All the way down.”

The imagery of Dean buried face first in Donna’s cunt makes Sam groan out loud.

Donna grins bright and arches her neck, head back on a sigh, eyes closed. “Meh, I’ve never really enjoyed the oral experience,” she says before rolling her head to the side then back upright to look at Sam. “I like  _insertion_.” A small, wicked smile twists her kiss-swollen lips.

“Well, darlin’,” Dean says, pushing her sweatshirt up and over her head to reveal a thin, white tank top. “You’ve never experienced  _my_ oral.” He mouths at her already tight nipples to make the fabric wet and Sam can’t get enough of the way she squirms and groans in his brother’s lap. 

“Ya see,” Dean continues. “Eatin’ pussy’s like eatin’ pie.” He’s made her tank top entirely see-through where her nipples are concerned. Sam licks his lips and grips his hard cock tight over the denim fabric.

“And you know how I love pie,” Dean says, gripping Donna’s broad hips and moving to stand. She squeals a little, wraps her legs around him and holds on tight as he walks three paces to the bed, lays her there on her back and kneels on the floor between her legs. “Can I?” he asks, playfully, blinking innocently and he traces the patterns on the knees of her yoga pants.

Donna’s sprawled on her back, arms flung wide, already looking so satisfied, her hair fanned around her head. She rises to her elbows then reaches to cup Dean’s jaw and he leans into it. “OK, cowboy,” she says. “Show me whatcha got.”

Dean’s grin is all mischief as he drags Donna’s yoga pants over her hips. Sam moves to get a better look. “How wet is she?” Sam asks his brother as he pops the button of his jeans. “God, I can smell her from here.”

Dean chuckles quietly, tossing Donna’s pants over his shoulder then dragging her ass to the edge of the bed by her knees. He drapes them over his shoulders and dips in to place a kiss to her center.

Donna gasps. “Dean!” She bucks instinctually into his face.

“Oh, dude,” Dean groans, bringing a hand up and pushing his thick middle finger inside her. “ _Sooo_  wet.” He wraps an arm around one of her thighs to keep her steady but for tiny pushes of her hips onto his finger and face. “Gonna fuck my hand and mouth, D? Hmm?” He takes her in his mouth full and moans.

“Shit,” Sam whispers, gripping his bared cock in his hot hand. He can hear how wet she is – hear the squelching noises as she grinds into Dean’s face. “Get her top off, man, I wanna see her.”

Dean laughs, and Donna sits all the way up long enough to pull her tank top over her head. “Better?” she asks, tossing Sam her shirt and a look as she settles back on her elbows.

Sam catches the garment with one hand and smirks. “Much,” he answers, holding the piece up to his nose, inhaling her scent - clean sweat and honey - before setting the top aside and skimming his gaze over her full breasts. “You’re gorgeous.”

Sam works his length as he watches Dean bob between Donna’s open thighs. Donna lays back again, cups her breasts and moans in approval. “Hooo,” she breathes. “You weren’t kiddin’.  _Wow_.” She pulls at her nipples and stares hard at the ceiling then drags her gaze to Sam. “He’s  _really_  good at this, Sam.”

She’s out of breath and so is Sam, but they’re both smiling. “Tell me what he’s doing,” Sam says, slowing his thrusts into his hand to drag it out. Just watching her breasts bounce with Dean’s movements is enough to make him come; he wants this to last.

“He’s…” Donna breathes heavy and hard. “He’s two fingers deep, and  _holy moly_  he knows how to find that spot.” She looks down at Dean. “Your mouth… his mouth is so hot right on my-” Donna hisses and squeezes her eyes shut. “Ah!”

Her back arches off the bed and Sam has to slow his breathing, take his hand away from himself, and close his eyes for a moment in order not to come with her. He listens to her panting, to Dean chuckling as he moves up her body. “I got mad skills, baby doll,” Dean says, and Sam rolls his eyes open.

“Dude,” Sam scolds, secretly thankful for the respite of cheeseball to keep his orgasm at bay.

Donna’s giggling and grinning wide, a sheen of sweat making her sun-bronzed skin shimmer in the low light, as she watches Dean stand and disrobe. Dean smirks and licks his lips, Donna bites her own bottom lip and scoots backward toward the head of the bed, and Sam’s cock jumps for his attention.

He palms himself again as Dean crawls on hands and knees over Donna, hovers above her, dipping in to kiss her long and slow. Dean’s jaw works hard. His kisses look so focused yet languid, deep. Donna brings her knees up along his thighs, welcoming him in.

Dean breaks the kiss long enough to say, “What’s next, Sammy?” before setting back to licking into Donna’s mouth, gently sucking her curved top lip between his own.

“Touch him, Donna,” Sam says, pushes his legs open wide, cupping his balls and stroking his cock, pressing down. “You want to, right?”

Donna nods, deepening the kiss, running her hands up Dean’s chest and shoulders, pushes her fingers into his hair. The sounds she’s making are quiet but so pretty. Sam squeezes himself hard and starts to pump again.

“You two…” Donna breathes, letting Dean kiss her wherever he wants. “Ya know I couldn’t do this with anyone but you two.” Her hands are in Dean’s hair, but she’s looking at Sam.

Sam takes in the honesty and openness there. He realizes that he and Dean couldn’t do this exact thing with anyone else but her either. “I think we feel the same way,” he says. “Dean?”

“Mhmm,” Dean answers. “Nobody else but you, D-Train.” He reaches for his bag on the floor next to the bed and produces a condom. “You know, Sammy and me – we’ve only ever been in the same room fucking once, and we were  _hammered_.” He laughs as he rips the condom open. “And young.” He glances at Sam and they lock eyes. “But this is different, Donna,” he says. “ _You’re_  different.”

Dean rolls the condom on and Sam openly watches with interest, his desire flaming higher. “Fuck her good, man,” Sam says, his breath shaking.

Then Dean stretches out over her, braces a forearm beside her head and plays with her hair as he guides himself inside her. “Oh, I plan on it, little brother,” he says, kissing her again as he thrusts all the way to the hilt.

“How does he feel, Donna?” Sam asks, his chest tightening and his vision tunneling. “Tell me.”

“Bigger… and harder than I expected,” she breathes a light laugh and then a groan as Dean pushes her legs open wider with his big hands at the backs of her thighs. He kisses her jaw and throat as he stays buried inside her. “But…” Donna sighs. “No one’s ever fit me like this.”

Dean pulls up long enough to catch her eye and to smile before taking her mouth again.

“So, it’s good,” Sam says, brushing his palm over the head of his cock and shifting in his seat.

Dean kisses Donna like Sam’s never seen a person kiss. Of course, it’s not as if he watches people kiss as a hobby. 

Dean pulls at her bottom lip, letting it slip through his teeth as he rises to his knees. Sam’s eyes take in his every move. Donna grips one breast in her hand and drops her other hand to her clit.

“Come on, cowboy,” she murmurs, shaking her hair wild.

The sparkle in her eyes, the pop of her smile, and the way she luxuriates in Dean’s midst – Sam is stunned by the beauty and grace they create. If Dean’s Fred Astaire, then Donna is most definitely Ginger Rogers.  

Dean pulls out and pushes back in slowly, opening her legs wider as he pulls out, then bringing them back together when he pushes in. Her legs are like butterfly wings flapping at his command as he fucks into her. “Look at you, D,” Dean breathes, staring down at her with scorching heat, but she doesn’t wilt – she’s a zinnia, blooming under him.

Donna gives up on working her clit, throws her arms wide in surrender, letting him take her. “I don’t even need to help you,” she chuckles, breathless. “You’re gonna get me there just like this, and I…” Donna tries to catch her breath. “Gosh, I’ve never gone off from _just this_. Hoo, boy.”

This time, Sam wants to come when they both do. He knows Dean can time it just right, so he’ll follow his lead – except for one thing.

“Dean,” Sam says, “Do that thing with your hand on her belly.” Sam grips himself hard.

Dean laughs as he drapes one of Donna’s knees over his shoulder. “You remember that?” He shoots Sam a look of respect and disbelief. Then, as he keeps working her other leg open and back again, he leans forward and presses a palm over her lower belly, splays his fingers wide and applies just enough pressure.

“ _Hoooly_ …” Donna exclaims and her eyes roll back. “Dean!”

“That’s right,” Dean moans with a broad grin, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Take my fat cock, come on it.”

“Shit, man, are you gonna come?” Sam is right on the edge with Donna’s noises and Dean’s dirty mouth. He pumps himself erratically and watches Dean fuck her through and drawing out her climax.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says, hugging her thighs to his chest, making her tighter on him, and his thrusts stutter. “Right  _fucking_  now.”

Sam gasps and spills over his hand and into his lap.

Moments pass as Dean eases out and backs off Donna. They’re laughing quietly and she groans when he drags a hand over her hip as she rolls to her side. He tucks her under the covers and brushes her hair out of her face.

Sam watches Dean stand then disappear behind the bathroom door. He can’t deny the guilt that follows, the heaviness of shame, awkwardness. He doesn’t know how he’ll look his brother in the eye again, but he’ll have to eventually.

~~~~~~~

Donna’s sleeping, gently snoring, little spoon to Dean’s big. A small, satisfied smile graces her beautiful face and smoothes her brow. Dean’s wrapped around her, possessing her even as he’s casually propped on one elbow, watching Sam settle into his own bed for the night.

“So,” Dean starts. “Was it what you wanted?” he asks, his voice low and quiet, as he lightly threads his fingers through the ends of Donna’s silken waves.

Sam knew it was coming – knew Dean would make him talk about it. That’s what they do to each other, for each other.

Dean let him drive for a while, or so it seemed, but Dean never totally hands over the reins to anyone. He always has a plan and a back-up, he’s always right there to step in when he sees fit. And now is no different.

“It was pretty incredible,” Sam answers, not quite meeting his brother’s eyes, but he sees Dean nod.

“You want more,” Dean says, and Sam does look at him then as he rolls to his side then lets his gaze drop to Donna’s sleeping form. He can almost see a glow surrounding her, or maybe it’s his subconscious suggesting that she’s what Dean really needs, and, by extension what he himself needs.

“I’d like to do it again, yeah,” Sam says, bringing his gaze up to meet Dean’s, feeling his cheeks flame and his stomach flip. “But it’s not exactly… normal, Dean, I mean-”

“Sammy,” Dean smoothly cuts in. “There ain’t nothin’ normal about us.” He holds his gaze, his head shaking almost imperceptibly. “And fuck anybody who cares, it’s our business.”

It took some years, but one day Sam realized that Dean chose Scissors because he knew Sam would choose Rock. He gives Sam what he wants – always – even when Sam doesn’t even know what it that is. Somehow, Dean knows, though.

Sam rolls his eyes. “So, I’m not supposed to feel weird about getting off on watching my brother have sex.”

Dean shakes his head. “Sammy, that’s not all that was,” he says, looking down at Donna, his face softening further. “Is it taboo, or whatever? Yeah. It’s complicated and we’re ‘co-dependent’,” Dean uses half-hearted air quotes and rolls his eyes. “But that wasn’t just fucking. We were sharin’ somethin’, man.” Dean’s arm hugs Donna in tighter. “Don’t get hung up on the details.”

Sam nods, burrowing into his pillow. Dean nods in return then reaches for the light to click it off. It takes Sam a while to fall asleep. When he does, he’s lulled into dreamland by the sounds of Dean and Donna breathing in tandem, warm and calming.

~~~~~~~

Sam gets up early – before Dean or Donna and goes for a run. He takes his time, thinking they might want some time to talk. After an hour run and a smoothie, he makes his way back to their room to find Donna packing her bag.

He eases inside, and she looks up then grins wide. “Mornin’, sunshine,” she greets him. “You were up and at ‘em early.”

She rounds the bed and approaches him. She doesn’t embrace him; instead, she balances fingertips on his shoulders and hikes up on her bare toes to peck him on the cheek before breezing past him to pour coffee from the little coffee maker on the dresser.

“Dean said you’d probably gone for a run or somethin’,” she says, returning to her bag. “We both showered and he’s out getting us some breakfast and  _real_  coffee, so the shower’s all yours.”

“Uhh, thanks,” Sam says with a nervous smile.

Donna grins at him and zips her bag.

“So, uhh,” Sam starts, dropping his empty smoothie cup in the trash. “You okay? With last night I mean.”

Donna looks startled for a moment then relaxes with a quick sigh. “Oh, yeah,” she answers, nodding. “Yeah, your brother and I talked, I…” She pauses for a second then approaches him once more. “Are  _you_  okay?” She tilts her head and her deep, dark eyes are glinting with curiosity and compassion.

Sam gives in to the pull to be open with her. He sits on the edge of the bed. “I’m good,” he answers honestly, sounding surprised to his own ears. 

Donna settles on the edge of the bed mirroring him. She nods. “Because I’d never wanna come between you and Dean,” she says. “You two are… two sides of a coin.” She laughs. 

“You don’t wanna hear all my Minnesota-isms for what you two are, but you’re special. Your bond is special, and I just feel…” She pauses again, looking up to the ceiling. “Honored?” she says looking back at Sam. “I’m honored that you let me in.”

Sam is a bit stunned. “So, the whole, me watching my brother have sex and liking it thing doesn’t bother you.” He looks at her sideways, genuinely questioning her.

Donna’s thoughtful for a minute. “Ya know,” she says. “I don’t wanna be flip about it, either, because I may not fully understand the whats and the whys with you two, but it is what it is.” She shrugs. “Look at the world we live in. Find comfort and compassion where you can, I say.”

Sam laughs and shakes his head. “I knew you were somethin’ else, Donna,” he says, warming in her glow. “But this is a lot to ask.”

Donna leans forward and wraps her small hands around his. “You didn’t ask me for a thing,” she says. “And look what I get outta the deal! Amazing sex and an even tighter relationship with two of the best people and hunters I’ve ever known!”

Sam laughs again and squeezes her hands in his.

The door swings open and in walks Dean, carrying a caddy with three coffees and a white paper bag, made greasy with its contents. “Hey,” he greets, hesitates in the doorway for a second. “Want me to come back?” he asks, turning to exit.

“Don’t you dare,” Donna says, standing from the bed. “I’m starving, and this coffee is lighter fluid with brown food coloring.”

“They make brown food coloring?” Dean asks as Donna closes the door with one hand and relieves him of the bag with her other.

“Ya know, I dunno, actually,” she answers, digging into the bag and producing a breakfast burrito.

Sam watches their interaction feeling his heart swell. This is his family – more complete than it’s been in years. Maybe more complete than ever. Donna knows the risks of being this close to them, yet here she is.

As Dean and Donna settle at the small hotel table to eat, Sam gets up to shower. “I’ll just be a few minutes,” he says, stripping his sweaty t-shirt over his head and tossing it over the back of the armchair.

“No rush,” Donna says with a mouth full of burrito. “Oh, my god, this is  _so good_.” Her face is pure rapture.

“I know, right?” Dean says, mouth equally stuffed. They continue to chatter as Sam closes the bathroom door behind him and starts his shower.

~~~~~~~

Once they’re back at the bunker, it’s business as usual; the only change is Donna quietly moves her things into Dean’s room. The other hunters who come and go, including Mary, notice but say nothing. Until one day, Cas asks the question.

“Are you…” He pauses as if to carefully weigh his next words. “Is Donna sleeping in your room?”

Sam shakes his head. “No,” he says, garnering a standard look of confusion from Cas.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Cas says then turns back to Dean. “I was asking Dean. It’s been… bandied about that she’s… _in your room_.”

“You mean, like right now?” Dean deadpans, feet comfortably propped up on the table as he flips through yet another tome, not even feigning to take Cas’s question seriously.

Cas’s face twists in irritation. “No, not-” He stops himself. “The question is whether or not you and Donna are  _together_.”

“We’re together a lot, Cas,” Dean says, slapping the book closed and dragging his feet from the table to sit forward, hands folded casually in front of him. He looks the angel in the eyes. “Are you sure the question isn’t whether or not Donna and me are fucking?”

Cas sighs. “I was trying to be discreet, but, yes, that has also been suggested.”

“Well, not that it’s anyone’s business, but you can officially update our relationship status to ‘together’, or however you wanna put it,” Dean drawls before standing to leave the library. “I’m gonna go check and see if she is, in fact, in my room right now because it’s been at least eight hours since we’ve been  _together_ , and I kinda miss it.”

Sam shakes his head and rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics, even as impressed as he is with the way Dean handled it.

The initial conversation in Michigan was that nothing would change at the bunker; Donna would keep her own room and they’d keep their complicated relationship on the down low. By the time they got back, though, Dean climbed out of the Impala, looked at Donna and said, “pack up your room, D, and move into mine,” without missing a beat.

Donna stood stunned for a moment, threw Sam a questioning look, and he returned a shrug and a bright, surprised smile.

Sam likes that they’re making a real go of it. He feels more fulfilled just for being near them. As for his involvement, it doesn’t happen often, never when anyone else is in the bunker, and only when Donna gets a certain look in her eye or Dean  _just knows_  Sam needs them; and then they take their time, learning each other, exploring their wants and needs and limits. 

Then they catch a case when all three of them are available and they hit the road – together.

~~~~~~~

“It’s too hot in here for us all to be wearin’ so many clothes,” Donna says. “Especially these  _fed_  get-ups.” Donna says ‘fed’ like it’s a dirty word, which it probably is for a small town sheriff.

She yanks at Dean’s tie, and he lets her, smirks down at her. “You too, Sam,” Donna says over her shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam answers with a smirk of his own. 

He takes his jacket off, drapes it over the back of one of the kitchenette chairs then tugs his tie undone. He watches Donna do the same to Dean with his tie before jerking his shirt out of his dress pants and pulling it open, popping buttons and letting them fly.

“Whoa,” Dean says, teasingly, his face and body showing how much he loves the way she’s handling him. He settles his hands on her hips, smoothes over the fabric of the pencil skirt.

“Fuck, you look hot in this skirt and those glasses with your hair up.” Dean grins as Donna pushes his shirt, tie still under the collar, and jacket off and onto the floor in one fell swoop. “That blouse is  _just_ this side of too sheer, though, you bad girl.”

“Maybe she needs to be punished,” Sam says, toeing his shoes to the side, leaving his shirt open at the collar and cuffing his sleeves.

“Hmm,” Dean hums and nods. “Probably.” He reaches for the buttons of her delicate blouse and starts to unbutton them one at a time, slow and steady, holding her gaze.

Donna laughs, deep and satisfied. “What d’you propose, Sam?” She asks without taking her eyes from Dean as the sheer fabric floats to the floor. She’s left in the curve-hugging skirt and a pink satin bra that pushes her breasts up pleasingly.

“Oh, spanking, definitely,” he answers, reaching in the mini-fridge for a beer and twisting the cap off before dropping it in the trash can on his way to the armchair. “I wanna see that big hand spank your gorgeous ass red, baby.” He makes himself comfortable for the show.

Dean appears to be surveying his options as he rounds Donna, eyes dragging down and up again. She licks her smiling lips and waits. 

“Skirt up or off, Sammy?” Dean stops in front of her, facing her. She’s in heels, so the height difference isn’t as exaggerated as usual, but Dean’s still so much bigger than she is.

“Hiked up over her ass,” Sam says, working his belt open. “Bend over the end of the bed, Donna, on your elbows.”

Donna looks at Dean, her breathing is already ragged. “I cannot believe I’m about to let you spank me,” she says, her cheeks flushing bright pink.

Dean nods, ordering her to turn and do as she’s been told. He follows close behind her, his hands roaming the dip of her waist and over the flare of her hips as she bends over. He drapes over her back, fists buried in the bedspread on either side of her forearms to pepper kisses and nips at the nape of her exposed neck. When he reaches one hand up to cup one of her breasts, Sam speaks.

“Pull the cups down,” Sam says, and Dean smirks, then does just that, squeezing then pulling her nipples tight.

Donna hisses and bucks her ass into his hips. “Oh, boy,” she breathes.

Then Dean slowly rises to his full height. He’s shirtless but his pants and belt are still in place, unlike his brother’s. Dean cups himself hard before reaching for the bottom of Donna’s skirt to slowly work it upward over her thighs and hips.

“Look at that ass,” Sam says, groaning, taking things slow, squeezing himself over his boxer briefs.

“Oh, I see it,” Dean says, smoothing a hand over the matching pink satin panties before pulling them down just enough to frame her ass between her bunched up skirt and satin.

“Shit, yeah,” Sam says, watching Dean slip two fingers between her legs.

Dean chuckles. “For questioning this punishment, you sure are soaking fucking wet, D,” he says.

Donna moans and grinds onto his hand, hides her face between her hands on the bed. “Do it,” she whispers.

Dean drags his hand from between her thighs and Sam can see her slick glistening on Dean’s middle and ring fingers. He wants to suck them clean.

_Thwack._

The sound of the first strike mingles with Donna’s yelp and subsequent groan. Dean soothes the spot with the same hand and holds her hip with his other. “Okay?” he asks, and Donna nods enthusiastically.

Dean glances at his brother as he uses his open hand to smack her again, just below the first strike point. “How many?” he asks Sam.

“Ten,” Sam says, pushing his hand inside his underwear and gripping himself. “Three on each ass cheek and two on each of her tits.”

Dean groans. “Fuck.” He makes quick work of reddening her full, rounded ass before pushing her panties to the floor with one booted foot, unzipping and removing her skirt. “Step out of ‘em,” he orders, and Donna obliges, her skirt dropping on top of her panties. “Up on the bed, on your back.”

Sam and Dean watch her climb up and settle in the center of the bed. Dean works his belt and pants open and pushes them to the ground. They tangle around his dress shoes, and he curses but gets the shoes off and pants kicked aside before Donna can get too cold.

He climbs onto the bed between her legs then drops over her to really kiss her. His hands work at her bun, pulling her hair loose and wavy. Then he reaches for her glasses and sets them aside on the nightstand before kissing her again.

Her breasts are peeking over the tops of the satin cups in a way that Sam thinks is begging to be abused. 

“Slap her tits, Dean,” Sam says, breathing heavy.

Dean nods, spreads her open wider with his knees, kisses his way down her neck, uses his teeth on her collarbone. 

“I need a knife,” he says, teasing and light.

Donna doesn’t flinch, but her expression is curious as she rests her hands over Dean’s shoulders, letting him kiss anywhere he wants.  
  
Sam gets up from the chair where he’s sat, crosses the room to Dean’s duffle bag. He keeps his eyes on Donna and his hand on his cock as he digs through the bag for Dean’s request.

After he hands the blade to Dean, he moves back to the chair to watch as Dean rises triumphantly to his knees, twirls the knife like a drumstick across his palm, and drags the dull side of the blade over the creamy skin of Donna’s breastbone.

She sighs, breathy and sweet. Then she shifts her gaze to Sam. “What should he do with it, Sam?”

Dean looks to Sam. They share a moment, a nod, then Dean skims the blade under the satin band between her breasts.

“Pretty in pink,” Dean mutters before twisting the knife, blade-side up, and slicing the fabric in a millisecond. When her breasts bounce totally free, Dean drops to all fours over her, pressing the knife into the bedspread under one palm. “ _So_  pretty,” he sighs before brushing his lips over her quickly puckering nipples.

He laves and swirls at her with his warm, wet tongue, pulls the tight flesh between his full, pursed lips, uses his teeth a little and her back arches on a silent cry. He puffs a warm laugh over her damp skin, mouth open just a centimeter above her, eyes watching her with amusement.

“After this, you tell me what you want,” Dean says, his eyes smiling, moving to Sam’s for a beat then back to see Donna open her big, warm browns, hazy and love drugged. He smiles wide. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

Sam believes him. If Dean is anything, he’s a man of his word. He can see that Donna believes him, too.

Dean sits back on his haunches and grips both breasts in his hands, squeezing and pulling. Then he slaps one right over her hard nipple, and she hisses. “Okay?” he checks in again.

Donna smiles and nods, thrusting her hips and draping her thighs over Dean’s to get closer. 

“It feels good,” she says, turning to look at Sam. Her eyes are so dark, pupils blown so wide, they almost look demon-black – which turns Sam on even more.

Dean repeats the slaps and the gentle squeezes, watching closely as her plump flesh turns bright pink from his hands. “ _Really_  pretty,” he echoes his earlier sentiment.

When he’s done, he drops wet kisses to her breasts and pulls her tender nipples inside the heat of his mouth. “That’s four,” he says. “Now what?” He’s hovering over her, waiting for direction – hers or Sam’s. He looks a little like a racehorse at the starting gate.

“I just want you inside me,” Donna says, reaching for his jaw and pulling him down for a kiss, her fingers sliding into his hair.

Dean relaxes into the kiss, lifting Donna from her back to straddle him. They keep kissing as she guides him inside her and she starts to ride him.

Dean’s fingerprints are everywhere on her skin, her hips and ass and breasts. Sam thinks it’s beautiful.

“You look amazing,” he says to them both, pumping himself, fantasizing about how Donna feels and tastes. He wonders if he’ll ever know.

It isn’t long before the telltale signs of Donna’s orgasm are apparent. Sam thinks they really are a perfect match since she always comes so easy.

When she comes, she says both of their names, rests her head on Dean’s shoulder as he comes right after her, Sam quickly following.

No, what they have isn’t normal. Some would say it’s twisted. But what they have works for them, keeps them warm, and they’re as happy as they ever could be.

**_If you like what you’ve read, type something in the box below. xox_ **


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